Chapter 13 : Chapter 13
Chapter 13
The system notifications that clouded his vision were what greeted Ian when he came to his senses.
[You are the first to overcome Queen's Mercy addiction.]
-Additional rewards will be given.
[You are the first to find a cure for Queen's Mercy.]
-Additional rewards will be given.
[You are the first to overcome a demonic poison.]
-Poison resistance greatly increases.
-Additional rewards will be given.
[You have overcome a hundred poisons.]
-Poison resistance greatly increases.
-Proficiency in poison-related skills greatly increases.
[Quest Complete - Survive!]
-The reward has been changed. Press ‘Claim Reward’ to receive your reward.
After checking the notification window, I blinked my still-heavy eyelids and checked my physical condition.
The nagging headache and the auditory hallucinations that never left my ears were gone.
‘And that’s not all.’
Just by overcoming the poison, my overall stats had increased.
The stats that had been decreased by the poison’s influence had been restored.
‘This alone is enough of a reward, but there’s more?’
Since it was the first quest, I didn't have high expectations.
At this point, whether it was experience, money, stats, or items, anything would be a great help.
With expectant eyes, I pressed ‘Claim Reward.’
‘Stats would probably be the best, right? Or maybe an item?’
As if in response to my expectation, a bright light poured out and a message window appeared.
[Reward Acquired: Trait Enhancement]
[The trait 'The Capable Incompetent' is enhanced.]
-All traits acquired through 'The Capable Incompetent' are enhanced.
-The trait Dark Lord is enhanced to Dark Emperor .
-The trait Eye of the Gold Fiend is enhanced.
I flinched at the unexpected reward.
"Trait enhancement……?"
It was a reward I had never received in over thousands of playthroughs.
It was a reward that exceeded my expectations by that much.
‘Jackpot, this is a jackpot……!’
Enhancing all future traits meant that I could surpass the owners of those traits with the trait buff.
‘If I acquire a trait from a hero, can’t I become a hero with the trait buff?’
Of course, acquiring traits wouldn’t be easy, but was there anything in the world that couldn't be obtained with money and power?
This was a world where one could stand at the pinnacle of humanity with just a single trait.
If I could just have dozens of traits, it wouldn’t be impossible to stop the monster invasion on my own.
As I was organizing my thoughts, Reina, who had entered the room, greeted me with a bright voice.
"You're awake, Young Master? How are you feeling?"
As she drew the curtains, the sunlight that poured onto her turned back brightened the room.
"So good. How much time has passed?"
"You slept for a little over a day. Miss Lina kept coming to ask after you, but I didn't think I should wake you……."
"You did well."
I enjoyed the sunlight tickling my eyes for a moment before getting out of bed.
Reina naturally approached and handed me a neat formal uniform.
"This is the beginning. Where is the regent?"
"He has a breakfast meeting in the morning."
"A breakfast meeting? Why have a meeting in the morning instead of just eating quietly in the dining hall?"
"I heard he's so busy that he resolves small matters during breakfast."
"Ha, he lives a busy life. Is Baron Malfoyeu there too?"
"Yes. He reports on your health every morning……."
At the fact that the two people I wanted to see the most were together, a sly smile appeared on Ian's face as he left the room.
* * *
As soon as he entered the dining hall, Ian looked at the regent and frowned.
‘Huh, that bastard has mana too?’
Count Markberg.
Despite being a commoner, he was a legendary figure who had shown outstanding grades at the Royal Academy, studied abroad in the Empire, and then returned to earn the title of a life peer.
He had mana that was so well-hidden that I wouldn't have known about it if it weren't for the Ghost Absorption Method, which reacted sensitively to an opponent's presence and mana.
And it was a vast amount of mana, so much so that Ian, who had only been training his mana for about a week, found it difficult to gauge its end.
‘With such vast mana, why did he let me run wild?’
Back in the conference room when I had bludgeoned the bald man with my scabbard, someone with mana could have easily stopped me.
No matter how high the young duke's position was, he couldn't have called it treason for protecting a vassal.
And yet, the regent didn't stop me.
He had only looked at me with a displeased gaze.
‘Did he want me to go berserk?’
For a moment, the corner of the regent's mouth lifted slightly.
‘But is that bastard sneering at me the moment he sees my face?’
At the sudden surge of irritation, I glared at the regent and gripped the hilt of my sword, and the corner of the bastard’s eye twitched as if drawing a line.
‘He's not sneering at me. Is it the sword? Did he want me to bring my sword?’
But why?
How did he know I would come to the dining hall with my sword on?
In that instant.
I saw the other vassals who were even avoiding eye contact.
Those who were bowing their heads and avoiding my gaze even though the young duke had arrived.
‘Ah…….’
Ian had tried to quit the drug hundreds of times.
And he would have experienced just as many failures.
How did the young and immature Ian overcome that despair?
‘Venting. That bastard must think I've failed to detoxify again. He must believe I'll run wild, unable to contain my anger.’
To be more precise, from the moment he saw the sword, he must have been expecting me to draw my sword and run amok.
So much so that a hint of undisguisable pleasure could be seen on that snake-like face.
There would be no news more sensational than the fact that the young duke had killed someone in a dining hall full of vassals to tarnish his reputation.
‘…You foolish bastard.’
Having organized my thoughts, Ian suppressed a sneer that was about to burst out and offered a greeting.
"Well, it's been a while, everyone."
Ignoring the greetings that the dozen or so vassals in the dining hall offered in a crawling voice, Ian approached the regent.
The bastard didn't know.
That Ian was gone, and that I had taken his place.
That I had overcome the drug.
And.
‘I’m a rational scoundrel.’
A brilliant scoundrel who knew exactly where to bark.
* * *
The regent bowed his head to Ian and then opened his mouth with a worried expression.
“We were all so worried to hear that the Young Duke was avoiding the drug again.”
There was no concern about whether he was okay.
Just a rebuke for having quit the drug.
This wasn't concern for me, but a kind of show.
To slowly scratch at my nerves and make me draw my sword.
“Young Duke, that drug is not a poison. It is a precious medicine that my friend, Baron Malfoyeu, brought from the Empire with great difficulty. Although it has some minor side effects, I have heard that it is the best for the Young Duke’s symptoms. Haven’t you already had it checked by all the pharmacists, doctors, and priests near the lord's castle?”
As if to openly get on Ian’s nerves, the regent kept repeating the same story, saying that he should never quit the drug.
Although he was beating around the bush, everyone in this room would have understood what the regent was trying to say.
‘He wants to say I'm crazy.’
A scoundrel who insisted that a drug acknowledged even by priests was a poison and refused treatment.
A fool who repeated the same mistake even after having seizures several times.
The past Ian would have thrown a fit at this point, insisting that it wasn't medicine, but definitely poison.
‘Then he would have pretended to be worried again and called a priest or a doctor to conduct another examination, preferably in a place where many people were watching.’
Queen's Mercy was a poison that was still unknown to the world.
Even if he brought the pope, he wouldn't be able to find the hidden poison.
In this way, the regent was tarnishing Ian's reputation while simultaneously solidifying his own position by pretending to be dedicated to the young duke.
I ignored the regent, who was repeating his nagging, without even giving him a glance.
He was a bastard I couldn't kill right now because I lacked the power.
I wanted to slap him to relieve my feelings, but with that much mana, it seemed my hand would just hurt if I slapped him hundreds of times.
However, since he had prepared such a good stage, it would be rude to just let it go.
‘Right, so you want me to throw a fit?’
There was nothing as disappointing as a noble who didn't live up to his vassal's expectations.
As I glanced around for a scapegoat, I saw Baron Malfoyeu, who was sitting alone with his head bowed low in silence.
"Ah! Baron!"
As Ian ignored the regent and headed towards the baron, the faces of both the regent and the baron crumpled at the same time.
"Ah, yes, yes. Young Duke, I've been trying to see you for the past few days……."
I approached the baron, who was averting his gaze with a contorted face.
The snake-like regent might have wanted me to draw my sword, consumed by the drug’s influence, but now that I had grasped his mana, I had no intention of being unreasonably stubborn.
‘I don't think I'd feel any better killing the baron in this place either.’
In the worst-case scenario, if the regent were to stop me right before I killed the baron, wouldn't I end up with nothing and just doing him a favor?
"Haha! I'm sorry for making a fuss again. Strangely, even though I've been taking it for years, the medicine just doesn't seem to agree with me."
Standing in front of the baron, Ian patted his shoulder with his hand and smiled as if he were truly sorry.
"Since there's no better medicine than this, I'll have to endure it to cure my illness. By the way, Baron."
The moment Malfoyeu looked at Ian to answer.
"A mosquito landed on you."
Ian slapped him across the cheek without mercy.
Slap!
A satisfying sting in his hand.
"Ah! I missed it."
Slap!
A perfectly pitched, cheerful sound, neither too light nor too heavy.
"Wow, it's flying to the right."
Slap!
Savoring the feeling of fulfillment, as if it were healing his worn-out soul, Ian opened his mouth.
"Ah, I'm really sorry. I could have really caught it just now."
* * *
Baron Malfoyeu, with the most wronged expression in the world, held his swollen cheek and looked at the young duke.
‘Again, again, why!’
This time, he really hadn't done anything.
No, he hadn't even thought the bastard would come to the breakfast meeting.
He was a bastard who would throw a fit every now and then, saying he would quit the drug, so he had believed he would be cooped up in his room for a few days.
‘But why is he already crawling out!’
Had he lost what little perseverance he had?
The bastard who would go on a rampage, unable to control his rage from the madness, only after a few days of starting, had come out of his room in just one day.
Just in case he might displease him, he had lowered his eyes and held his breath from the moment the bastard had arrived at the dining hall.
But why, why on earth did the sparks have to fly to him?
"Y-Young Duke! Please!"
Wronged was wronged, but he had to live first.
This periodically mad bastard would sometimes get the same crazy fit, and as his personal physician, he knew how to deal with it.
"Didn't I also take the same medicine in front of you, Young Duke! There is absolutely no poison in my medicine!"
He didn't know how many times he had said the same thing.
It had been going on since the young duke was a cute boy, 4-5 years ago, so he only knew that he had repeated it to the point of being sick of it.
"Who said anything? I said there was a mosquito."
A sense of injustice welled up at the sight of him shrugging and answering.
‘Where are there mosquitoes in the middle of winter!’
It seemed his madness had reached a severe stage.
He told him to take the damn medicine, but he wouldn't, and now why was he taking it out on him?
His chest ached with frustration, and tears blurred his vision.
"Hey! Over there!"
"Oh my!"
Thwack!
As soon as the bastard shouted, he covered his face with both hands, but he couldn't block the bastard's fist.
"You said it was a mosquito, a mosquito!"
Who in the world catches a mosquito with their fist?
That conscienceless bastard!
As the fallen baron was seething with rage internally, Ian slowly approached him and smiled brightly.
‘Ah, a demon.’
The curved eyes and the naturally raised corners of his mouth, as if he were enjoying this situation.
The bastard was definitely a demon.